"He made me fall in love. He got me addicted to heroin. He got clean. I couldn’t. He left me."
Posted from the PostSecret website.
You could spend hours on your appearance and still not look as good as David Bowie did in his mugshot.
Can’t seem to find the fucks I give
You’re one to talk about selective memory
Remember when I would always offer u a place to stay, but instead u ignored me and now you’re pretending I was never there?
Remember when I spotted u with a fuck load a cash, no questions asked, so you could get that dream job that u ended up losing anyway?
Remember how I practically fed you and your boyfriend when he came over because u couldn’t tell him “don’t come over because I can’t even feed myself when u do much less you”?
Remember all the times I took and picked you up for work without asking you for a cent cus it was too fucking cold to be out waiting for the bus?
Remember all the nights that id get home from work tired as fuck but I’d still sit on the floor with you and hear you out on all the shit running through your mind?
No, of course you don’t because according to you I bailed when we were gonna lose our apartment because of YOUR fucking problems. I bailed despite the fact I told you we should kick it with my family until you had fucking money to pay for half of your shit..
Oh yeah, and remember what you said? You said no once again.
You go ahead and remember all that as well not only the shit that makes your side of the story a pitty party.
my mom taught me the therapeutic power of cleaning. open all the windows. throw out the old. wipe down the entire house. burn some incense. roast some coffee. then rest. that way the tears from last night don’t feel as heavy.
I love it! This is so necessary!!
This is so true. I hated it when I was younger but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that cleaning is so good for the soul.